


Time is short and Life is long

by angededesespoir



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 15 min. fics, Anxiety, Canon-Typical Body Horror, Dissociation, Experimentation, M/M, More tags to be added as we go, Multi, Other, injuries, nausea mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-12-25 23:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12046389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angededesespoir/pseuds/angededesespoir
Summary: A collection of 15 min. fics.





	1. Vision- Tracer & Soldier: 76

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Trying to get back into the swing of things, so I figured, ‘hey- why not do those 15 minute fics that you used to do?” So here we are._
> 
> _Prompt:[Vision](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/15_minute_fic/30119.html#cutid1)_. 
> 
> _(Also on[Tumblr](http://angededesespoir.tumblr.com/post/165174970035/an-trying-to-get-back-into-the-swing-of-things).)_

He blinks- world a hazy grey. The details come to him in pieces. Whereever he is, there are lights, dimmed down, and an incessant beeping. He’s laying in a bed, he realizes. It’s firm, but still softer and more desirable than the living situations he’s been in half the time since the incident.

He tries to sit up and hisses, spikes of pain shooting through him. 

“Oh, good!” Comes a voice somewhere nearby, off to his right. “You’re awake! How are you feeling, sir?”

He tenses. His eyes land on a blur of brown- sticking out in many directions. He makes out the shape of a person and the blend of orange and yellow clothing. He doesn’t need to see clearly to know who this is. The cheery voice alone gives the identity way. Even still he asks.

“Lena?”

“Yes, Mr. Morrison, sir, it’s me. Did you need anything?”

He shakes his head, and regrets the action instantly, his head spinning and the nausea creeping.

He swallows. “No. I’m fine. Where are we?”

“An old hideout, sir. Angela found you last night. We brought you back here. I'm afriad you have a right bloody concussion. Do you want me to-”

“I need to get out.”

“But, sir-,” she begins, caught off-guard.

“Bringing me here was a mistake. I don’t belong here. And none of you have any obligation to me. You shouldn’t even know I’m still alive.” He pauses, then adds, in a hushed voice, like an afterthought, “ I shouldn’t be alive.”

“Commander...”

His hands grip at the thin sheets, ready to tear them off. 

“I’m not your commander any more, kid. Now, do everyone a favour and let me go.”

“No.” She pushes him back down, gently, but with the old determination he remembers. “We only just found you. We’re not losing you, again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I've never tried writing Tracer until now. *Sweating* I need more practice._


	2. Racing- Reaper76

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Prompt:[Racing](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/15_minute_fic/14903.html#cutid1). Yeah, hi, I’m having many emotions about certain recent updates._
> 
> _(Also on[Tumblr](http://angededesespoir.tumblr.com/post/167152565950/racing).)_

His heart is pounding as he approaches him. Gabriel is down on the floor, staring at his shaking hands- clawed, distorted, smoking.

Jack’s own hand reaches out, warm and solid as he grips his husband’s shoulder. Gabriel doesn’t even register his presence at first, until Jack starts lightly shaking his arm, calling his name.

“J-Jack.” He doesn’t look up, eyes remaining fixed, yet unfocused on the loose, shifting skin of his palms.

 

Jack doesn’t like how his husband sounds right now. The anxious, unsure tone seems out of place and it sends him into his own panic, though he tries to mask it.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?’

Gabriel nods and says nothing.

Jack sighs. “We need to go to Angela. She-”

“No.” Gabe finally looks up at him and Jack half wishes he hadn’t. “You know we can’t. You know why.”

“Then what can we do? Because I- I can’t-” 

Jack’s voice cracks and he averts his eyes as he swallows. Even in his shock-induced haze, Gabriel can see his distress, can practically read the thoughts flitting through his brain. Always could.

“We just have to trust the Dr. will fix this soon,” he tries to reassure.

“Do you actually trust her?”

“No,” he says- honest, without hesitation. “But what other options do we have?”

Jack doesn’t reply. His face is grim as he crouches down, pulls Gabriel close.

Gabriel doesn’t protest, though his nerves scream. He simply tries to sink back to that place where he is untouchable and numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The difficult thing about writing these is that you're so limited in what you can say and do in 15 minutes and there is so much more I wanted to explore! But, alas, that will have to wait._


End file.
